


Bucky Loves Food and Steve Loves Bucky

by chunkybarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguously post-winter soldier, M/M, Weight Gain, all the avengers are friends and nothing hurts, chubby bucky, holiday season aka chub lovers' heaven, ill-fitting clothes and alcohol and finger food oh my!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8493532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chunkybarnes/pseuds/chunkybarnes
Summary: Steve's read about how stray animals gain weight when they're re-homed, because when they were strays they never knew when their next meal was going to be, so they would eat as much as they could to tide them over.He never thought that that knowledge would become relevant as Bucky steadily eats him out of house and home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please know that I was gonna do a more Halloween themed fic (chubby incubi hello!) but uni exams and my job and other adult responsibilities (yuck) got in the way but I still wanted to contribute to the exchange so please find below an old snippet I'd written for something else and never ended up posting. Now i'm posting it without changing the working title because that's how i roll. deal with it.
> 
> Huge thanks to iwritetheweirdstuff over at tumblr (mwestbelle on here I think) for organising this chubalicious collection and also extending the deadline by a week for idiots like me who locked themselves out of their AO3 accounts and had to wait for the invite to a new one (sorry again). Halloween is briefly mentioned but as an aussie who unfortunately doesnt get to celebrate this magnificent holiday as much as I'd like i have decided to creatively interpret the theme into 'holiday season' since pretty much the first of november came heralded by christmas decorations in the lobby of my office. I always write too much in these notes, so i'm gonna stop now before y'all lose interest. Thanks for checking this fic out. And sorry again for being late. Sorry. Shutting up now.

So like, here's the thing. Steve's read about how stray animals gain weight when they're re-homed, because when they were strays they never knew when their next meal was going to be, so they would eat as much as they could to tide them over.

 

He never thought that that knowledge would become relevant as Bucky steadily eats him out of house and home (but not really, because Tony set it up so JARVIS keeps tabs on when supplies are low and orders the groceries to be delivered regularly).

 

When Bucky had shown up in the alley behind the tower, he'd been painfully thin, his flesh wrist looking almost as delicate as Steve's were before the serum. The doctors informed Steve that he needed to put on weight immediately lest he develop any physical health complications to go along with the myriad of mental ones Hydra had inflicted on him.

 

So Steve cooked him good, hearty meals, similar to those Bucky made for Steve when they were desperately trying to get some meat on his bones in time for winter. He also left a bowl (more like a cauldron) full of snacks - protein bars, snack size chocolates, mini cupcakes - in an effort to promote Bucky's appetite.

 

He needn't have bothered, because it turns out that Bucky’s appetite was pretty promoted on its own. Steve would serve them both a decent helping of whatever was on the menu, and Bucky would have demolished his in no time flat, sitting quiet and reserved until Steve offered to get him more. Initially he would accept the offer with a small incline of his head, but gradually he accepted with a smile or a full on grin (on the good days).

 

Steve doesn't know if Bucky's metabolism wasn't affected by his version of the serum, or if it's just slow after decades of the shit Hydra had him on, or the fact that he showed up right before the Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas season, or if it's a combination of all three, but there's no denying Bucky's put on weight. And not a small amount either. Enough that his belly is permanently stretched in a concave swell, his arms and pecs somewhere between beefy and chubby, and his butt is most definitely now a booty.

 

Steve knows this because he's always paid a lot of attention to Bucky's body (it's been a nice one since the 1930s, who could blame him?) but mostly because he's currently watching Bucky trying to fit into the outfit Natasha had bought him for the New Year's Eve party tonight. It's. Well. It's pretty fucking hot to be honest.

 

The black skinny jeans are currently halfway up Bucky's meaty thighs, almost to the bottom of Bucky's boxer briefs, he's hopping from one leg to the other to try and hike them up the whole way, he excess body weight jiggling in a way that makes Steve's mouth go dry and his heart beat a little hollowly in his chest.

 

"Need some help there, Buck?" He comments from his position leading against the door jamb. Bucky's managed to tug the jeans over the voluptuous swell of his ass. Steve can see his biceps (flesh and metal) straining as he tries to button them beneath his gut, where it's just starting to dimple under his small happy trail. There's a ring of pudge spilling out over the waist band growing bigger the tighter Bucky pulls.

 

Steve's died and gone to heaven, honest to god.

 

Bucky's only response is a laboured grunt as he finally closes the two sides of the fabric. 

 

"Naw" he says "I think I'm good."

 

He tracks Steve's gaze to the fabric around the zip, fully visible where it's gaping under the strain of Bucky's widening hips.

 

"Guess I shouldn't have had those leftover Christmas pies, eh?" He pats his stomach with both hands then lowers one to fiddle with the button, which is pushed through the buttonhole at an angle. It's not going break off tonight (probably). But soon, Steve thinks as he meets Bucky's eyes, definitely soon.

 

 

The cab ride to Stark’s tower is a real exercise in restraint for Steve. Now that Steve’s become aware of Bucky’s excess... baggage (particularly the extreme liking he’s taken to it), he can’t tear his eyes away from where his ass flattens across the faux leather seats, spreading like thick pancake batter.

 

He hones in on minute details, how he can see the seams pulling against the influx of flesh against them, how just a smidge of his soft skin peaks out from the side of his dark button up where the seatbelt hugs it to the curve between his stomach and pecs.

 

“So,” Bucky breaks the silence. “You been to one of Stark’s New Years’ parties before?”

 

“Yeah, a few years ago now, it was pretty big. Lots of dancing. Lots of food.”

 

“Both things I like.” Bucky grins at Steve. Steve’s reciprocated smile is weak at best, and when he speaks his voice comes out wobbly.

 

“Yeah.”

 

True to Steve’s word, the first thing Bucky sees when they step out of the elevator is a dance floor, almost packed to the brim. Beyond that, a table is set, absolutely chock-full of canapés and bite sized desserts. Excellent. Bucky loves miniature food.

 

When he’d first got back home (back to Steve), food had been a bit of a necessity, instinct telling him to fill up at each meal in case it was his last. But with all the lovely meals and snacks Steve prepared, the necessity gave way to enjoyment. He genuinely loved food and he loved being full. He hadn’t really noticed the effect this had had on his figure until tonight, and neither had Steve, from the looks of things back at the apartment. To Bucky’s surprise, he wasn’t too upset with this development, especially if it kept Steve looking at him like he’d looked at Peggy Carter back in the day.

 

He drags Steve to the table and immediately begins loading up his napkin with nibblies while Steve snags them some glasses of champagne.

 

“You know,” Steve comments, “there’ll be more of this stuff in the kitchen for later on, you don’t have to hoard it all now.”

 

Bucky says nothing in return, just maintains eye contact and pointedly dumps his cache onto a half full plate of brownies and takes the entire thing over to the couches where Natasha and Clint are taking swallows from a flask one of them (presumably Natasha) smuggled in. Tony only allows hard liquor at the after party, and given that this is New Years Eve, the after party won’t be until much, much later.

 

Steve makes the rounds of the room, trying to distract himself from the visual of Bucky eating himself out of his button up, but it doesn’t help that he always catches Bucky’s return trips to the snack table out of the corner of his eye.

 

Just before midnight hits, he excuses himself from a conversation with some business relation of Tony’s, makes a stop at the snack table and brings a plate to Bucky. Judging from the empty glasses on the coffee table in front of him, Bucky’s had a few, and from the crumbs that are caught in his stubble, he’s had a lot. Natasha scoots over so he can sit next to Bucky and place his gift on Bucky’s lap.

 

Bucky rolls his head where it’s resting on the back of the couch to grin lazily at Steve. “Hey Stevie.”

 

“Hey bud, thought you might be hungry, I bought you a little something.”

 

In lieu of a response, Bucky starts methodically making his way through the plate. Steve had got him some more of those brownies, and Bucky seemed to be saving them for last. In fact, when Natasha left to join the countdown to the new year, there’s just one left on his plate.

 

“You try one of these Stevie?” he asks, licking crumbs off his fingers. Steve shakes his head. In the background, the TV broadcasting the ball drop echoes in tandem with the guests.

 

“Ten...”

 

“That’s too bad. They taste so good, and there’s only one left.” Bucky fakes disappointment.

 

“Eight...”

 

“Well,” Steve swallows, “we could always... share?” Bucky’s eyebrows rise. He plucks the lone brownie from the plate with two metal fingers, and puts the whole thing in his mouth. Chews. Swallows.

 

“Four...”

 

“Would you look at that,” he breathes, leaning in close to Steve. From here he can see a smear of chocolate across Bucky’s plush lower lip. Steve’s mouth is dry. “looks like there’s only one way you can taste it now.”

 

“Three...”

 

“Looks like it.” Steve repeats.

 

“Two...”

 

Bucky leans in closer. His breath smells of champagne and chocolate, and it ghosts across Steve’s lips in the most tantalising way.

 

“One!”

 

Steve closes the distance, presses his lips to Bucky’s waiting ones and chases the taste of the brownie around his mouth. His hands feel awkward and useless where they are in his lap, so he tentatively moves one to the crook of Bucky’s neck, and the other to cup the side of his tummy, full with food but covered with a malleable layer of fat. This was obviously the right thing to do, since it causes Bucky to moan into Steve’s mouth and shift his position so he’s straddling Steve, pressing his hardening cock against Steve’s.

 

“We should,” Steve pants, “go home.”

 

Bucky nods his approval but makes no move to get off Steve’s lap, or the couch.

 

Tony notices them necking like teenagers from across the room and makes a face. Gross. “JARVIS?” he calls. “Call those lovebirds a car, would you?”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's interested, the incubi fic is in progress but hitting a little tiny bit of a wall so if anyone has anything they'd like to see involving stucky at college and steve as a chunky incubus pls... help a sister out. I started writing it on the basis of: "imagine if incubus steve could get fat off of an extremely horny James Buchanan Barnes..." and literally had no plot set out in my head (or anywhere else for that matter!)


End file.
